Anywhere But Here
by DenyingTheTruth
Summary: {Sequel to All That's Left of Me} Chelsea Sweetly is back with a bang...sort of. While she's preparing for her wedding, the diva's division is falling apart, her closest friend retires, and she is beginning to doubt her career completely. What was a happy ending doesn't feel so great anymore. Enter Hallie, a pretty designer who has a story of her own to write. Reigns/OC ?/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A sequel? Really? YES. YES REALLY. Here is the sequel to All That's Left of Me, featuring the lovely Chelsea Sweetly and Roman Reigns himself. Here, we will introduce more friends and family. You're welcome.**

 **Don't be shy, let me know if you love it or hate it, if you want me to stop writing or continue. Your continued support makes me smile.  
**

* * *

"For the hundredth time, I said I wanted cobalt blue! This blue looks like...I don't know, a few shades brighter than navy. Please have the proper color swatch emailed to me tomorrow morning," Chelsea was growing increasingly frustrated with her wedding planner, a just-out-of college woman who was definitely talented but also still learning the ropes and limits. She didn't mean to get all bridezilla-y, but her wedding was going to be beautiful; sunflowers and cobalt blue, white, and black lining the aisle. Hell if anyone was going to jeopardize something she'd always dreamed of when she was a girl.

Frustrated, Chelsea began to rake her hand through her long, black curls, wishing she could just rip it out. Who would have thought this would be such a pain in the ass?

"Baby girl, how are you handling?" Roman wrapped his muscled arms around his woman, surprising her with a sweet kiss on the temple. He was home with her for the weekend, getting prepared for Sunday night's Money In The Bank Pay-Per-View. Chelsea had to admit; though she was thrilled that he was one of the top guys, she was shocked that he still wasn't quite there yet. A year ago, she thought for sure he'd been holding the gold, but in reality he hadn't held it at all. She was still very proud of him, constantly directing him in the right direction with his career.

Chelsea, on the other hand, was appearing in a few episodes of a popular sitcom, so her character was "injured" until the filming of those concluded. Stephanie McMahon had also allowed an extra week off from work so that she could get her wedding situation under control, able to spend a little bit of more time focusing on details and be more involved.

"Oh, Ro. This girl...she is fantastic, but so...I don't know."

"She's trying her best, beautiful. And besides, no matter what happens, at the end of the day, you're stuck with me forever. So cobalt blue, baby blue, eggshell blue...you're mine," he teased her, pulling on one of her ringlets and let it bounce back up.

"I know," Chelsea responded, trying to cool her tone. "I just don't want it to look like it was decorated for a senior prom."

Roman laughed, slipping his arm around her waist and guiding her towards the patio of their home. He poured her a glass of Moscato, handing it over with a sly smile.

"Mr. Reigns, are you trying to get me tipsy and take advantage of me?" Chelsea giggled as she took the stem of the glass.

"Darling, I hardly need you to be tipsy," he responded, pouring a glass for himself.

"Oh, is that so?" she responded, clinking glasses with him. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, wanting to throw him on to their California king-sized bed and teach him what it _really_ meant to be taken advantage of.

She considered pouncing when Roman's cellphone began to ring, something that had been going on more and more lately. Unfortunately, it was always horrendous timing.

"Sorry, Chels. I've got to grab this," he reached into his pocket, winking at her.

"It's fine," she shrugged, reaching into her back pocket to get her own out again. Setting her glass down, she sent a quick text to AJ, reminding her that she had a dress fitting scheduled tomorrow. While AJ obviously wouldn't be able to get from her home in Chicago to the Florida boutique, she still needed her friend's opinion. They'd scheduled part of the fitting to FaceTime, but Chelsea was still deeply saddened that her first real friend from her return to the roster couldn't be with her.

AJ had since retired very early, following a lawsuit filed against her husband by the WWE medical staff. Though AJ claimed she was tired of traveling and wanted to spend time doing normal things with her husband, Chelsea still suspected that wasn't the entire reason. She couldn't get the other woman to admit that she missed the hectic schedule and, of course, the fans. But with the prestige and love AJ had for the company, she had to have had a little pain in leaving. Chelsea believed that in order to protect herself from some of the WWE's very strict guidelines, AJ left so she couldn't be held as any kind of collateral in Punk's court case.

Now, this left Chelsea in a very weird predicament, all over again. She hadn't quite made nice with Paige, who had ended up breaking up with Dean very shortly into their relationship. He'd told Roman that it wasn't a big deal, and had since set his sights on a pretty interviewer. Nikki and Brie Bella were busy running the world. Nattie had been managing her husband still, but hadn't been doing much work in the ring lately. Eva Marie was training in NXT, hoping to become the next big thing. Naomi was spending a great deal of her time home, caring deeply for her husband's children.

This often left Chelsea hanging around Roman's locker room, bored to tears. She'd heard that a few familiar faces from the NXT women's division would be making their way to Monday Night Raw, but who could be sure? After AJ retired, the divas division on the main roster took a hit, and even the fans were beginning to notice the women were slotted in less than five minute matches, often resulting in a small package ending...literally and figuratively.

However, during one of her many lonely adventures backstage, she did meet one girl that she admittedly quite liked. Hallie was a pretty, quirky girl. She actually worked with the costume design team on NXT, but was currently filling in while the head seamstress, Belinda, was away due to her hip surgery. Hallie could put together a design in an unbelievably short amount of time, and shyly admitted to Chelsea that she often made her own clothes.

From there, they began to speak more and more, and she opened up after a few attempts and prods by Chelsea. She'd hoped to one day have her own clothing line, but in the meantime, she really enjoyed being with the WWE. She was only 24, but had already had a slew of internships under her belt. Chelsea had asked her to personally design her ring attire for her comeback following the wedding. Chelsea Sweetly's character needed more development, and now that Paige was considered the anti-diva, it was time to find a different gimmick. Chelsea had a phone meeting scheduled with the talent relations team tomorrow, yet another thing she was not looking forward to. The creative team had thrown awful ideas her way in the past, but the latest was putting her as a manager for a floundering tag team known as The Ascension. She could hardly contain her excitement to hear the latest plan...not.

So, hopefully Hallie had come up with an idea. Any idea. Because the last thing Chelsea wanted or needed to be involved in was a shitty love triangle.

"Sorry about that, beautiful," Roman had returned from his phone call, distracting Chelsea from her creative team woes. "Now, where were we?" he gently kissed the nape of her bare neck, sending a chill down her spine. Of course, as soon as she turned to face her future husband, her own cell phone began to ring. Groaning, she glanced at the display screen, having a hard time reading it from the sun's bright beams.

Fucking Dean!

"Sorry, Ro. It might be important," she rolled her eyes playfully as he made a pouty face. She didn't tell him who was calling, because she knew that Roman was still kind of tip-toeing around their friendship. She didn't intend for him to get jealous, but she could certainly understand why he might let that feeling creep in. After all, Dean had nearly changed the dynamic of her relationship with Roman completely, deciding to try to swoop in and be her knight in shining armor when she already found one in his best friend.

"Hey, Dean-o," she answered when she was out of earshot.

"Jesus, Chels. You take long enough to answer, or what?"

"Shut up. What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"I should be asking you, Miss Bride to Be," Dean hardly hid the distaste in his tone. Chelsea wanted to say something about it, but instead pretended that she didn't hear him. She had already made up her mind on this ordeal, and no matter what Dean wanted, it simply wasn't meant to be.

"Honestly? Planning a wedding blows. On top of that, my maid of honor literally lives across the country," Chelsea bit her lip, immediately wondering if her old friend Maria had remembered to e-mail both Chelsea and the wedding planner the list of RSVP responses.

As if Dean read her mind, he asked how Maria was doing. "I haven't spoken to her much at all. She must be 19 or so now. Bet she's a spitting image of Allison," he suddenly seemed distant, as if recollecting his deceased ex-fiancee.

But that was exactly why Chelsea had asked Lennon's baby sister to do the honors. Since the one person that helped Chelsea change her entire life was taken from the world far too early and tragically, it seemed only right that Maria could be there with them. AJ was standing up in the wedding, along with her brother's wife, Tamina Snuka, and Naomi. Chelsea's mother, whom she had a very rocky relationship with, had declined her invitation altogether, reminding her of the life she could have had. "With a proper husband" she had written in her short, snippy letter, following Chelsea's own heartfelt apology for leaving her mother behind in pursuit of a life she truly craved.

So, fuck it. The wedding was already half-assed, but it was the buzz of the locker room right now. Pretty much everyone was invited, the huge backyard garden the host of what might turn out to be a few hundred people. So what if Chelsea's whole family wouldn't participate? At least there were truly supportive people everywhere, even with the lack of estrogen in her life.

"Chelsea?" she'd forgotten she was on the phone.

"Sorry, sorry. You just mentioned Lennon, and I just really miss her. She should be part of this," Chelsea responded, her emotions starting to rise.

"I know, Chels. But I promise you, she's watching, and that girl is damn proud of the successes you've scored. It's tough to be detached from that whole situation...and from you."

"Dean..."

"I know, I know. Sorry, too far. But yeah, I actually called because your weird costume friend, Holly? She apparently made a huge splash in Mark's office earlier today. She has a sketch for your new costume, a whole new idea for your character to go with it."

Wow! That was probably some of the best news Chelsea had heard all day. Chelsea Sweetly might not have to cater to a strange anti-Illuminati tag team, but rather be her own person.

"I don't know the details, but you're supposed to call her. She said you guys were on speaking terms, but that you hadn't traded numbers. So I grabbed it from her to pass along, just in case she's a psycho stalker. But anyways, I heard Nattie is super, super jealous over this."

That in itself was music to Chelsea's ears. Although her former best friend and training mate had done her best to destroy Chelsea by bringing in... _him_...she had been unsuccessful; so by default, Chelsea couldn't help but feel good about any misfortunes in Nat's life. Any bad juju she had now, she certainly deserved it, especially after turning her crazy Total Diva cast against Chelsea, making her return a true re-adjustment.

"Really? That's amazing! Do you know what the idea is?" Chelsea couldn't hide her excitement, feeling a real smile for the first time in a few days.

"Nah, of course she kept it quiet. She really wanted to run it by you before the talent relations team did. But hey, if it's got the attention of the other divas, it's gotta be decent."

"Yeah, of course. Let me grab a pen and paper, I'll jot down her number."

She did, and scribbled the numerals down as Dean read them off from a napkin.

"Thank you for calling me, Dean. I really missed hearing your voice."

"Come back soon, then, and we'll be able to see each other a lot more."

"I know, I know. I just have been doing a lot things for this series...and Ro, he's a handful...getting married is a fucking rainstorm in itself..."

"Ah, Chels. Boo-frickin'-hoo. At least you have someone."

"Dean..."

"Seriously. I mean, I'm still happy for you two. I really and truly am. I can only hope that I can find someone half as amazing as you really are. So I hope Roman knows that."

"Me, too. But what happened with that interviewer? She was really cute."

"Renee? I don't know, we've been seeing each other off and on. I do like her. But we don't have the chemistry quite like I hoped we would. Like Paige, she was fun and different and good in the sack-"

"Dean! Knock it off!"

"Okay, sorry. Oh-hey, Seth just got here, he looks pissed. Probably Leighla again...oh, he made a face, it's definitely Leighla-I'll catch you later, okay, gorgeous?"

"Okay, Dean-o. Don't get your ass kicked."

"Try not to. Don't be a stranger."

"Of course."

As she hung up her phone, she felt...messy. Why was it that even without truly intending to, Dean always had this way about him that made her feel like her future, with Roman, could end up being one giant mistake? At least he brought her good news. She really didn't want to fade away in the midst of the divas division, especially if it was true that a handful of beautiful, young talent would be joining them very soon. Veteran diva, Layla El, was a prime example of disappearing, and Chelsea certainly didn't want that to be her, too.

She called Hallie-not Holly, as Dean had seemingly renamed her, but was sent to voice mail straight away. Frustrated, she texted the number, letting the costume designer know who it was and that she couldn't wait to hear about the ideas she had.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I have a five day vacation, starting RIGHT NOW. That means, I'll be writing some fics. I am so glad to see I've gathered a handful of followers. For those of you who don't know, go find the prequel to this surely fabulous story, All That's Left of Me.  
**

 **Don't be shy, let me know if you love it or hate it, if you want me to stop writing or continue. Your continued support makes me smile. Your reviews are like drugs to me. :)  
**

* * *

Hallie Rose trudged backstage, her combat boots scraping the pavement as she walked. She knew she didn't fit in here. Everyone was very cookie-cutter, and having come from the slummy part of Venice Beach, she was very different from the women that were employed here.

Hallie's style was unique. Sure, she'd studied the amazing designers out there, but that didn't mean she would wear the runway styles herself. In fact, who would? For the most part, fashion shows were just plain strange. That's why, instead of going the traditional route, she entered in the costume design world. She'd put together some costuming for movies, but her latest gig with the WWE might have been the biggest headache. Right now, she was lucky enough to be helping out the main people, who were extremely nitpicky, everyone wanting to be that top guy or gal...which meant everyone had to be exactly right, all the time. The NXT roster was much more forgiving, and many of them came from the indie scene and already had their costume or gimmick on standby.

The biggest headache so far was when WWE champion, Seth Rollins, decided to switch to a white in-ring suit versus the black. He was crabby, arrogant, and the poor girl that had to deal with his shitty attitude got to hear all about how untalented and stupid she was. Hallie dealt mostly with the divas, though the only real issues she had was when Nikki Bella forgot to bring her red trunks and only had black with her. While the fix was easy enough, it was a firsthand look at how these divas viewed themselves: Queens of the world.

Hallie was stoked to meet the pretty woman called Chelsea Sweetly, though. She'd read about her on TMZ's website a handful of times, then delved into her Wikipedia page once she found out she would be making a guest appearance on one of the shows she regularly watched. She had troubles in the past, but from the bits she had talked to her, she really did seem much less fake than the rest of them. Unfortunately, she would be off TV for a few weeks, which was a little bit lonelier than Hallie wanted to admit.

"Hey, costume girl, can I get you to help me with my cape?" a heavy English accent snapped Hallie from her own self-pity. She turned to see the King of the Ring, Wade Barrett, trying to close the cape around him.

"Make it snappy, would you? I have to get out to the ring after the next commercial break," his eyes weren't angry, but rather frustrated. Hallie didn't say a word, and didn't bother to argue with the man. Even though it wasn't someone she normally handled, she couldn't afford to generate backstage dislike.

Pulling her handy needle and thread out of nowhere, she refastened the snap that was barely hanging on. She imagined it was from the countless times he'd ripped his attire off, eventually wearing down the clasp. She could smell his cologne, mixed with minty fresh mouthwash.

"Thanks, you're a dear," he said as he rushed off, a stagehand waving him towards the curtain.

"You're welcome," she replied, but he didn't hear her. The more she thought about it, he probably didn't even see her. Guys like that don't acknowledge girls like her. She was the gauged-eared girl with some dreadlocks mixed in with her sandy blonde hair. She liked to listen to talk radio and watched more documentaries than what would probably be considered healthy. Vegan and proud of it. But...guys she dated in the past had always said that she came off as kind of intimidating, because she was so strongly opinionated and very well informed.

 _Whatever,_ she thought. _It's not like I'm here to get a boyfriend._

For the past week, she had been watching any and all trends. Chelsea had informed Hallie that the creative team wanted a new plan for her, but she was scared shitless that it was going to be either managing a tag team or a terrible love triangle, both of which sounded horrible. She loved being in the ring, but at this point had no business stepping in with the likes of Nikki or Paige. It wasn't as if she wasn't awful in the squared circle, but more because her character development had really been put on a screeching halt. It was almost as though nobody had a damn clue how to use the surplus of strong, beautiful women that spent time just as much time busting ass at the gym as their male counterparts.

Deep in her own thoughts, she sat down at the table that had every color glitter, ribbons, and buttons sorted, the sewing machine covered up...at least for now.

"I'm telling you, we've got to figure something out for some of these women," she overheard after awhile. It sounded like...maybe Tom Philips? She wasn't sure.

"I know Chelsea Sweetly declined to manage The Ascension, but she needs to do something or she'll end up..." the end was muffled, and Hallie rocked the office chair back slightly to try to either peek around the wall that was blocking the voice or hear better.

She saw Mark, the talent relations manager that was always kissing the Bella girls' asses. He was carrying around a clipboard, and it wasn't the announcer that he was talking to, but the creative manager.

"You know what? I've got it. We'll put her in the angle with Lana and Rusev. The pair are supposed to break up and really push Lana, but we'll stick Lana with a likable person. Chelsea needs a change of character because she's being overshadowed...why not make her a heel? Put her with Rusev in a twisted love triangle," Mark was the one suggesting this, and Hallie could already hear Chelsea screaming. The last thing most of the women wanted was a tragic love story to get them over. In order to protect her sort-of friend...well, her only friend, she stood up and cleared her throat, both men turning towards her.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt. But I have an idea," she offered, her voice shaking. This was completely out of the ordinary for a costume designer to speak up about anything, let alone a creative issue. Even though in reality she had no ideas or sketches to offer, she might be able to bide time to start one. Otherwise, Chelsea was going to be buried under other talent.

"And exactly who are you?" asked the creative director, annoyance lacing his words.

"That's Hallie, she came from NXT as a costume designer for our divas. Hallie, don't you have some sequins to sew?" Mark's tone matched the other douchebags, but Hallie pretended not to hear, confidence beginning to rise.

"I actually don't, not right now. But hear me out. I've been working on an idea for Chelsea Sweetly for the past few weeks. The last thing she needs is a love story, because everyone in the locker room and WWE Universe knows she has a real-life one. It isn't going to work. I really think there's an overcrowding of face divas, so yes, that's the right move."

"You have a sketch of the ring attire?" asked Mark, defeat almost clear now.

Bingo.

"You bet I do. I would love to meet with you guys and show them. I left them at the hotel with my other sketches, but give me a call sometime tonight or tomorrow. I think what I have can really shake things up for her."

"And it does not include a Diva's title run, right?"

Hallie now grew slightly annoyed. Chelsea's stupid ban on non-title contention had actually been lifted; but unfortunately, it was still clear that the WWE creative team was going to stick it out with Nikki, which was fine, but many other women needed that title to propel them before those two girls did.

"Of course not. With my idea, she doesn't need a title at all."

"It better be good. I'll call you straight away in the morning. If you're not available in the afternoon, make yourself available. Otherwise, we're putting Chelsea Sweetly with Rusev," the creative dude began walking away.

 _Fuck,_ Hallie thought. _Now I actually need to come up with something._

* * *

Roman was admittedly lonely.

Sure, he was back on the road with his best friends, but Chelsea was at home, and he longed to be there with her. She was kicking ass and taking names on that TV show, and had already gotten some other deal lined up for early next year with ABC. But that's something that she was always good at: molding herself into whatever she needed to be.

She'd been freaking out lately about her character on WWE programming, more so after Mark had mentioned to her that her cupcake and black trenchcoat thing had lost it's appeal completely. Chelsea needed a change, her character now too closely resembling Paige. Roman actually thought putting her in a management role was perfect, but being the stubborn woman she always was, she declined that opportunity straight away.

Now, add that crap on top of planning their wedding, and a perfect concoction for a Bridezilla emerged. Still, he wished he could be with her, but that was simply not possible. He had a long road ahead of him to get where he needed to be, both physically and career-wise. He couldn't afford to take time off. Right now, the main event guys were extremely on edge, so many of them believing they deserved the shot. Roman consistently fell short of being The Guy, his popularity way, way down. Dean Ambrose, on the other hand, had a huge fanbase, and scored himself the main event spot a few times during Monday Night Raw.

Roman wished he could say he had come to terms with Dean Ambrose being as close to Chels as he was, but he wasn't. Not at all. Even when they worked in the ring together, the distrust he had for the smaller man was clear. Dean had said numerous times that he didn't want to be a part of Chelsea's life like that anymore; that it was a lapse in judgement. But the history was very clear between the pair, and how could Roman fight a strong past?

Yet, he couldn't find it in him for Chelsea to cease contact with Ambrose completely. While the two used to be great friends before she ever walked into the arena, the truth broke out quickly. They'd known each other for quite awhile before that fateful day.

Sometimes, he missed the days where he courted Chelsea like a true gentleman would. He had been as good to her as he had ever been to a girlfriend, knowing the shit and turmoil her partnership with Jeff Hardy had caused her. He still couldn't believe she was in such a great mindset now given the awful circumstances she'd lived through. Hardy was a bully, and it was very clear the pain she had carried from it early on in their relationship.

Roman had protected her and been her therapist through it all. And even though they broke up for a short period of time, they both couldn't deny the bond they'd formed...

So why was he feeling so very uneasy lately?

"Hey, Romy, what's good?" Kofi Kingston sat down by him at the table in the dining area of the arena, and Roman couldn't have been more grateful. The last thing he needed right now was to think himself into a bad mood. He should be thrilled: finally getting married to an amazing woman...

"Not so good?" Kofi questioned, realizing that Roman was very distracted.

"Nah, I'm good. Chelsea's home planning our wedding with a rookie wedding planner. I wish I could be there to help. The other day that I saw her, she was fucking stressed."

Kofi made a clicking sound with his tongue, nodding. "Yeah, my girl was the same way. Things ain't gonna be perfect though, no matter how hard you try. But anyways, ya'll got phones. You can still be involved enough. If she'll let you," he pointed out, and Roman considered that. He hadn't really put in much effort at all as far as this wedding was concerned...this wasn't exactly his thing.

 _Dean would probably be helping her out,_ that nasty voice in his head reasoned with him.

"Yeah, you're right. Weddings are mostly for the women anyways," he told himself, and that stupid voice in the back of his mind.

"You got that, bro. Hey, listen. Me and E are gonna grab a drink downtown after the show. You and Ambrose should come along. Forget what's going on for now, relax and hang out. My game's on, and hell if I'm missing it."

Roman smiled genuinely, and although he didn't like the idea of having a drink with Dean, he figured maybe a good guy's night would be what they needed to smooth over their friendship.

"Yeah, that's cool. Let Ambrose know, and I'll be there."

Maybe it would be fine, after all.

* * *

Seriously? Reigns was actually agreeing to go out with him?

Dean's first thought was Chelsea. He wanted to tell her, snitch on his tag team partner so very badly. But he'd learned the hard way that those two trusted each other, and it was something he was just going to have to get over.

He had a hard time getting over his fling with Chelsea, and oftentimes realized he wasn't totally over it. Sure, he'd dated a few women since then. None of them held his attention quite as well; and while many women had interest, he just had zero interest. His latest thing with Renee was alright, but he couldn't see himself getting prepared to walk down the aisle with her. A few weeks back, he had a chat with Wade Barrett, who had broken things off with the lovely Alicia Fox for the exact same reason.

"While she was a fun girl, I just couldn't see myself with her for good. I'm at the point where getting married is a goal, and she is still in a college sorority," he confided, and Dean realized he was beginning to feel that same way. Renee often hung around Nikki Bella, which was whatever, but Nikki was a wild child at heart, directly rubbing off on the cute and shy girl he'd been quietly dating.

Dean was heading to the weight room, knowing he had plenty of time before the show started. The ring wasn't even completely up yet, so it would be probably six or so hours before the Smackdown crowd came rolling in. He was slated to fight Luke Harper, a big guy that he enjoyed working with greatly.

Cutting him off was a massive horde of bodies, among them, Stephanie McMahon. She was sternly yet happily talking to that strange girl with dreads, who carried a sketchbook with her. She was smiling, nodding as Steph pressed for more information. Dean couldn't quite hear what was going on, but the talent relations team and creative team were meshing, which usually meant a big change would be coming.

"How did you come up with it? I've got to know."

"It's just time for something very different, and very strange. And I think Chelsea has the capability to do whatever we throw her way," the dreaded girl responded.

 _Chelsea?_

And then it clicked. This was the girl that had asked him to give Chelsea her number, because she had an idea that she wanted to run by her. Though she wouldn't expand any further, it had stirred up quite the gossip chain in the past week. It was immediately praised and glorified by Mark, but the fact that it went straight to Stephanie McMahon made it gold.

When the people began to disband, he tapped the girl on the shoulder. She whipped around, surprise crossing her face.

"Hey," she said, but she seemed unsure. Like he'd gotten her attention by accident.

"Hey. I'm Dean. I just kind of wanted to see what was going on," he felt awkward, like he didn't have any business speaking to this woman.

"Oh, you mean the same Dean that twenty questioned me about Chelsea? The same one that was worried that I was some crazy groupie? Look, I'd love to stay and chat, but as you can see, I've got quite a bit going on at the moment. Don't you have some ladders to jump off from? Please, find the highest one," she snipped at him, and he felt bad. Yeah, he deserved that. After all, he'd accused her of being a psycho stalker the last time he'd spoken to her.

"I know I was a shithead, and I'm sorry. But I talk to Chels regularly, and I kind of want to know..."

"I've already contacted her. And this is going to be such a big change that nobody else is going to know. She can't even mention this to Roman," she fiddled with her nosering, clearly now uncomfortable. Dean noticed she was actually quite pretty; her face very soft despite the rough appearance she tried to accomplish.

"Okay, fine. But can I at least see the gear sketch?" he nodded towards her book, and her jaw dropped.

"You really are a lunatic. No, you can't. Like, who do you think you are?"

"How's this for a lunatic? I was an ass last week, so let me buy you a drink later. A few of us are going out. Roman, too. And on behalf of Chelsea, it might do good to keep an eye on Roman."

"I truly doubt there's any reason she should be worried. That man loves her more than anything. Like, that's the sort of love people can only wish they find," a pleasant smirk now forming. "But, I still accept your offer. I can't sit in my hotel room for another night watching reruns of I Love Lucy. I scored myself a promotion, so I guess it's about time to make nice with people," she was now beaming, and Dean realized that whatever this idea entailed was good enough to bump her from sewing buttons at the NXT shows to making full-fledged attire, a new but previously missing like between the creative team, talent relations, and the seamstresses.

Maybe with enough alcohol, Dean could get her to open up a little. Besides, she seemed kind of feisty. He sort of liked that.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Day three of my vacation, and I have successfully found my hairbrush...but so far, the only true accomplishment. Arg!**

 **I am so glad to see I've gathered a handful of followers. For those of you who don't know, go find the prequel to this surely fabulous story, All That's Left of Me.  
**

 **Don't be shy, let me know if you love it or hate it, if you want me to stop writing or continue. Your continued support makes me smile. Your reviews are like drugs to me. :)  
**

* * *

Hallie watched her colleagues as she nursed a Bud Light, recognizing only a handful of people.

Dean was nowhere to be found, so she presumed he was spending time with the pretty blond interviewer that he swore up and down he wasn't dating...but backstage gossip told her quickly that indeed, he was. Hallie had also heard during Natalie's last fitting, though, he still had it out for Chelsea, for reasons that nobody truly understood.

"Probably ex-drug buddies," she'd scoffed under her breath. Hallie had pretended not to listen. She was disappointed that one of the veterans would act that way towards another diva, and while she didn't exactly know what the deal was between Natalie and Chelsea, she could sense it was some serious bad blood.

Regardless, it was nice to be out. After the fantastic meeting she'd had, she had been offered a position with the main roster, permanently. Stephanie McMahon was so blown away by her ideas and theories and costume design that it reminded Hallie why she'd put herself thousands of dollars into debt when she'd gone to school.

Of course, she told the creative team that Chelsea had agreed to the character and costume change, which wasn't true. But why wouldn't she? Yeah, the idea was kind of out there, untouchable to most divas. But Hallie was sure that her friend would agree to it.

"Hallie Rose, darling dear, it's fantastic to see you," Tyler Breeze draped an arm around her shoulder, looking classy as usual in dark slacks and a dress shirt. His ring gear was the first she'd sketched, and while it was laughed at while first brought up, the "selfie" took over the universe, and Tyler's gimmick went over so well, that his ring gear kind of stuck, too. She hoped soon he'd be called up to the main roster, because at least it was a friendly and familiar face. Better than being half-ass talked to and, in this outing, completely ignored.

Hallie smiled at the pretty boy, getting up from her bar stool. She gave Tyler a hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek, offering the bar stool that she currently had her messenger bag sitting on.

"Thanks, darling. I heard about you hitting it out of park with the uppers. Good for you," Tyler ordered himself a drink of his own, then turned to face Hallie.

"Thanks, Ty. I can't believe it was actually accepted by all parties," she stated, still marveling at the outcome. Except, of course, that Chelsea hadn't confirmed her involvement...at least, not yet.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, what is this grand idea?"

Hallie wagged her finger at her friend. "I can never tell," she admitted. "Stephanie really wants it to have a maximum shock value, because she is seriously scared that the internet will get hold of the idea and it'll be figured out quickly. But I promise, it's worth the wait."

Tyler nodded. "You're lucky you have the ins with one of the top guys' wives," he said thoughtfully. "When you have a guiding hand, it definitely makes things easier to make it big."

"You're going to make it big," she assured him, and he shrugged. It was clear that he was becoming frustrated with his run in NXT.

"Hey, a few of my favorite people," a friendly face tittered, and it was Becky Lynch, who hugged both of her co-workers as they were still sitting. Becky had changed so much from when she'd first started, and Hallie really enjoyed being around the orange-haired nymph. She was so sweet, so smart, and a little sassy. Exactly the type of person the WWE divas needed right now to shake things up...which was why she would be called to Monday Night Raw next week.

"I'm out celebrating with Char, and Paige is here, too. She's being crabby in the corner because Dean's here," Becky blabbed on, and Hallie quickly realized she was already fairly buzzed.

 _Wait, Dean was here? And he had a connection to Paige?_ Hallie's eyes scoured the room, but she didn't see the mopheaded lunatic. She did see Paige, swirling a straw in her drink and in a deep conversation with Charlotte Flair. Hallie half expected to see Paige's camera crew filming for the Total Divas show, but she remembered that it would be filming in Napa Valley. She'd heard Nikki talking about it when Brie had brought her flannel shirt to get a tear in the sleeve sewn up.

That meant, at least, Renee wasn't there. She was supposed to be going with the Bella girls.

 _Why should I even care? Dean is nothing to me anyways. He's busy with Paige and Renee and Chelsea._

"Speaking of who's all here, Hal, did you see-"

And as soon as those words left Becky's lips, she spotted exactly who she didn't want to see.

* * *

Chelsea got the message, alright.

And she didn't know if she should be happy or furious.

She'd called her friend in a frenzy, unsure of if it was the right way to go. Stephanie McMahon had left a few messages on her cell phone while she was busy filming stunts.

"We just need you to confirm a time to come in and meet each other, formally," she'd explained in the voice message.

Although Chelsea was happy that she didn't have to deal with The Ascension, she almost wished she could've been able to work with Rusev and Lana instead. Lana was a really sweet woman, so that might've been a great possibility. Instead, it appeared the love triangle would be a Rusev-Lana-Summer Rae-Dolph Ziggler pile of shit.

So, could she really be that mad at Hallie?

The answer was, kind of. Hallie told the uppers that Chelsea had agreed to the wild change in her character already. And while she'd left her a few messages since, apologizing but stating that she was sure it was the right move...Chelsea couldn't bring herself to anyone back; not Hallie, Steph, or the creative department. The whole thing scared her as it was so very different, and possibly one of the hugest storylines that they'd come up with since AJ becoming the General Manager.

Chelsea wondered how Roman would feel about her new angle. Naomi worried to both Tamina and Chelsea about her heel change being "too sexy" for her husbands liking, and while Chelsea knew that Naomi had nothing to worry about, she couldn't help but wonder if this change was something Roman couldn't agree to.

Chelsea wasn't even sure she could be a bad guy. She'd called AJ immediately, whom she confided in and told her the angle. AJ couldn't believe that A) she'd agreed to it and B) that the management agreed to it. "That's like, one of the most bad ass things I've ever heard," AJ assured her friend, reminding her that the creative team was pretty awful lately, and even a ten-year-old could probably come up with a better solution to many of their problems.

She had also talked to AJ about being a good heel, as AJ had fantastic experience in character change and development. It put an ease on Chelsea's mind knowing that she could be versatile, and that in the long run, this was an opportunity that wasn't given to just anyone.

"Just promise you give it all you've got. Really, truly sell the storyline. Because the fans will eat it up if it's believable. The only one on that roster that can make it feel real, I swear, is you," AJ said, before they'd hung up.

Giving a sigh of relief, Chelsea finally returned the missed call from Stephanie McMahon.

* * *

Roman and Dean stood outside, getting fresh air. Roman was surprised how many people actually showed up tonight. Kofi was already acting foolish, the NXT crew seemed to be taking over, and Seth had already ditched out early. So now, he had no choice but to kick it with Dean for awhile before he, too, would excuse himself to get back to his room. After all, the rumors were swirling that his lovely fiancee had agreed to a very, very big television role, and he couldn't wait to hear it. While he was disappointed that she hadn't called to tell him the news yet, he also knew she was really busy between planning and filming.

"How's the wedding planning coming along?" Dean finally broke the stale silence, fumbling for one of his horrid menthol cigarettes.

"Not sure. She's doing most of it. Thought you quit," Roman sounded more annoyed than he'd intended to, but Dean didn't seem to notice.

"Didn't quit. And isn't that what a wedding planner's for?"

Roman laughed. "Yeah, but you know Chelsea. She wants things to be absolutely perfect," he smiled.

Dean shrugged. "Not the Chels I remember. I wonder if this sudden push into the spotlight has changed her for the worst sometimes. I sometimes think she forgets that she is Chelsea, the sweet but evil diva that sports spikes and cupcakes. Not Nikki Bella, the 'look at me, my dress cost as much as a Ferrari' diva."

Roman raised an eyebrow at his friend. "She just wants something that she never had, Dean. Something she's never experienced. So, she wants it perfect," he cleared his thoughts up a little for his friend, deciding not to attack him for his indirect slam to Chelsea.

"Yeah, I guess. That's why I'm never doing the married thing. I am kind of enjoying experiencing different and unique women, anyways," Dean ashed his cigarette, not looking towards the taller man. "I mean, good for you guys, finding each other when you did. But the more I see, the less I want to join the club. I mean, seriously, how can Seth even deal with Leighla and her crazy antics? And Brie is always so mopey when her man is sitting home and she isn't."

"So, who are you trying to convince?" Roman laughed.

"Convince?"

"That a good relationship isn't all that it's cracked up to be."

"Myself, I guess," Dean admitted. After all, he'd lost the love of his life in a horrible car wreck, and then fell in love with Chelsea just a year ago. But, as fate would have it, Chelsea had chosen his best friend. And as much as it pained him, he knew that things happened for a reason. There would be someone out there who was perfect for him.

"Hey, guys, mind if I join?" it was Hallie, the pretty girl Dean had invited to the bar. He hadn't even seen her yet, as he'd been hiding out here with Roman since Paige showed up.

She looked annoyed, watching over her shoulder.

"You okay?" Roman asked the woman, who still wore her combat boots. Dean chuckled to himself.

"Yeah, I'm okay. There's just-a lot of people now," she was lying, and Dean could tell; her eyes were shifting as if she were looking for someone.

Someone she didn't want to see, perhaps?

"Tell me about it," Roman nodded. "I've gotta get going shortly, anyways. My bride is surely up to her eyeballs with all that's going on. And I just really miss her."

"Aww," Hallie smiled. Roman made the connection that she was the same woman who had been working with Chelsea for awhile now, and had designed her new look in its entirety. He looked at Dean, who wasn't even acknowledging the woman at all. She seemed like his type, Roman thought. Pretty, but rough around the edges. Then again, Dean had been hooking up with anyone who looked his way lately, so maybe it wasn't a bad thing that he pretended Hallie was a brick wall.

Roman excused himself, and Hallie turned towards Dean.

"So, you asked if I wanted to join you so you could pretend I didn't exist?" she pressed. Finally, she had a minute to talk to the man who was often compared to the Stone Cold Steve Austin of the Attitude era.

"I just had to get away from the mess," he admitted. "You know. I'm sure you know, coming from the gossips of the NXT, anyway."

"The mess you created with Paige?" she'd asked.

"Yeah, that one. I kind of just stopped texting her back. It's not a big deal. At least, not to me. She didn't seem to be into it, anyways. She's always doing stuff with her friends, and going to concerts of bands that are awful. I mean, maybe it wasn't the best thing for me to just leave it alone without any explanation, but can you blame me?"

Hallie smirked, then shook her head. "Guys like you are the reason girls can't trust a good one," she pointed out. "Your asshole tendencies are sure making it hard for yourself."

Dean started to say something, but the back door swung open again. His eyes locked with the former NXT superstar, who then glanced down at the petite dreadlocked woman. She looked frightened, and Dean realized she really reminded him of Keira Knightley from the Pirates of the Caribbean movies.

"Dean," the brusque man nodded towards the superstar. "If you don't mind, can I talk to Hal?"

Hallie gave Dean _the look_. The look that he knew all too well: she was uncomfortable, and she didn't really want to be left alone with this guy.

"Sorry, but I've got to get her home. She just got really sick," Dean offered, then slid his arm around Hallie's bare shoulders.

"I can do it," the bigger man suggested, but Dean pretended not to hear him.

Once he'd gotten her towards the street, he searched for a cab to hail.

"What's with all the NXT guys showing up like this?" Dean wondered out loud as Finn Balor and Sami Zayn walked inside, joining the nuts that were already there.

Hallie shrugged, still numb to the fact that _he_ decided to show up. The very same _he_ that she fell for, head over heels. And he destroyed her. She supposed it was only a matter of time before she'd be forced to deal with it again, but the pain was still there.

After he'd left the NXT to the main roster, Hallie celebrated with Becky and Sasha Banks that night. They had watched _him_ drag their friends' heart around while he already had someone back home, promising her the world anyways. And when he stopped talking to her completely, not bothering to text her back anymore after they'd slept together...

Hallie blinked back tears.

"I appreciate what you did, Dean," she said quietly as a taxi pulled up. He said goodbye, and she ignored him.

There were so many people out there just like _him,_ and the parallels Hallie saw right now were staggering.

As the taxi pulled away, she let her tears fall, finally relishing that she was still a broken person.


End file.
